The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1887-11-23
A SHIFTING ROMANCE,
BY Fl, s. FLEMING.

In the front room of Chicago f1ot,
known to the occupants thereof as "The
Tunnel" owing to the redundancy OF
light at either end, and the perpetual
twilight pervading all the interior por-
tions, three girls were scated-Meg.
painting; Kate, polishing her nails; aud
Alice, propped up on the sofa in the bay
window, speaking.
II don't know that I can do better
than to take you, Meg, foryou sec Unjust
have a heroine. To be frank, your
nature is really not complex enough for
a tirst-cass analytical study, but l shall
have to make the bcs. of you, and keep
your beauty we'll in the foreground.
First of course. you must be discovered
and described, so will now introduce to
the attention of my readers Margaret
Dillingworth, seated at an easel. The
maiden's sinuous figure is robed in black,
but over all flows voluminous apron of
Turkey-red cotton, which envelops her
form like flame. She is young; the
second daughter of a poor but worthy
mother, and the proud posscssor of one
accomplishment and two incompatible
sisters. She is at present engaged in
earning nimble penny by copying a
tea-store chrome for wealthy patron
who wishes some objets Dart for her draw
ing-room.' At this moment"-leaning
over to inspect Meg's canvas-''the
artist maiden has by some fatal mis-
chance placed touch of Prussian blue
upon the golden locks of the tea-store
siren, whose smile induces the customer
to drink unmurmuringly a decoction of
native herbs. And now for my hero
and l warn you, Meg, against disap-
pointment. You know you are poor
girl, and mustn't be looking for any of
those gilded youths that appear in roman
tic fiction. Now, as you must trust to
luck, will trust to luck, and the first
man who passes this window shall be
your fate"
A few moments silence ensued. Two
women passed the window. Several
children and innumerable dogs passed
the window. At last man passed the
window
Brother.in law, 1 salute thee" cried
Alice, springing UP in her chair, but as
suddenly subsiding. "Why, girls, he is
coming here"
who is coming here? Where is he?"
asked Kate. excitedly, vainly craning her
neck to get look at the conner.
"The hero," declared Alice, trying
stealthily to draw aside the interposing
curtain. "He is coming up the steps,
and he is-yes, he undoubtedly is-a
book agent
Here Meg burst into derisive laughter.
eyes" pursued Alice, meditatively,
''he is a book agent. He bears the wit
ness in his hand. All! he summons!
Margaret will ope the portal!"
"No, I will not" answered Meg, with
decision.
ooh, 90 onm cried Kate. "You are
awfully picturesque in that red apron.
Burst on him and dazzle him."
"Yes, do go, Meg" urged Alice.
"Seeing your apron, he may take you
for our handmade"
Meg, rising languidly, went into the
hall, opened the front door, and with her
maul-stick in hand, stood like young
Minerva. From shoulder to foot hung
the straight folds of her Mother Hub
bard apron. Confronting this classic
figure was very civil young man, with
a package of three large books in q
Shawl-strap.
II would like to see Mrs. Winslow,"
began the civil young man.
"Mss. Winslow does not live here" )"
responded Minerva, calmly. "She lives
next door; but the family are away at
present. The house IS closed"
The hero of Alces story looked some
what disconnected.
II did not know they were out of
town." he remarked, and then added,
hesitatingly: 81 have some books
here"
"Subscription copies2' interrupted the
goddess of wisdom, coolly.
At this the hero smiled so suddenly
and merrily that the goddess face took
fire from her apron.
-"Some law-books that I borrowed
from Winslow, "he resumed. 81 brought
them over on my way to the train"
fumbling his watchpo@ket nervously,
"and 1 scarcely know what to do with
them"
"You can leave them here-that is, if
you would like to-" faltcred Minerva,
with less dignity than became her role.
The young man frightened.
''If could" he said, ''it would be a
great favor. I will try and call for them
on Monday, and relieve you of their
care"
Meg bowed, and he added:
MAY I not know to whom I am so
much indebted"
Meg hesitated, while the girls behind
the portiere held their breath
81 dare say it is best that you should
know with whom you leave the books" "
she said, with dignity. "My name is
Margaret Dillingworth."
She fancied he was about to give her
his name in return, when the postman
came up the steps, and as she turned to
receive some letters, the young man raised
his hat and went away.
"Sex, female; color, white; age,
Twenty-Five" added Alice, as the door
closed. "Margares Haines Dillingworth,
come here this instant and tell me what
you think of yourself for giving youl
name to total stranger, and arranging
for him to come here on Monday"
"Alice. you are positively ridiculous! :
cried Meg. bridget shall 90 to the
door on Monday. shall not"
And she did not. For Monday passed
and several Mondays passed, and tht
young man had not yet called for tht
books.
In the meantime the Dillingworth'